The birthday cake was a two day old Christmas cake from a convenience store. The presents were plushes out of a machine. All of it was last minute, and all of it was proof that Fujimoto Shiro had no business raising children.

Because he had completely forgotten that it was the twins’ birthday until Nagatomo reminded him that morning. (In his defense, it was only the second time the issue had come up.)

Still, Shiro thought, it would be the ultimate irony if the boys grew up to be maladjusted psychopaths not because of their hellish biological father but because of their bumbling adopted one.

And yet, two pairs of blue eyes sparkled when he brought in the cake with its candle-bearing Santa Claus, and the presents somehow earned delighted squeals. It didn’t excuse him, but it did give him a fresh resolve to become worthy of those bright smiles.